On Seeing The 100 Perfect Girl One June Afternoon
by BelowTheText
Summary: "One June afternoon, on a narrow street in L.A.'s overpopulated, dingy and all-around messed up Lake Sector, I walked past the 100% perfect girl." My take on Haruki Murakami's 100% Perfect Girl. (I highly suggest you be enlightened and read his story before mine :) )
1. 100-percent perfect

The day was hot and smelled of the sea and rotting fish. Nothing like sweet memories of home to keep you alert for pickpockets. That was when I saw her.

One June afternoon, on a narrow street in L.A.'s overpopulated, dingy and all-around messed up Lake Sector, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.

Well she was, in my opinion.

To be honest, in the crowded street slums you wouldn't have noticed her at all. She slipped in and out of sight –weaving between the sea of bodies. If my eyes hadn't caught the glint of a small ring on the girl's finger, I'm sure I would've missed her completely.

She wouldn't catch your attention unless you were looking for that girl in particular. It's weird. It wasn't like I was looking for _her_.

In fact, I was searching for someone entirely different.

Eden –my brother –looked nothing like her. Her glossy black hair was tied back revealing her scratched up and muddy face. Her clothes were ripped and torn and caked with dirt –she was just about the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. The girl walked with her head bowed, as if she were careful not to draw too much attention to herself.

The girl wove through the bustling streets with the same effortless grace I've only ever seen in the rich districts of L.A. But she looked so at ease in the streets of Lake Sector that I almost believed that she belonged here amidst the sweating bodies and smoky markets.

_Almost._

I would've believed it if not for her eyes.

She lifted her head and they bore right into mine.

Fifty yards and fast approaching.

I zero in on her pair of dark orbs and saw little galaxies of stars dancing in them. I dimly registered the world fading around me.

Her dark eyes were alive with innocent curiosity and a wandering look that told me she was observing the world surrounding her –just content to be part of something bigger.

But even in her dazzling brilliance, I saw a something flash across her eyes –it was quick. So quick I nearly doubted I saw it. But the image burned into my mind, and it remained there every time I closed my eyes.

Her expression tore at my heart –it was like a memory of a painful wound reopening. And the knife sank deeper into my chest.

What I would've given to never see that same ache in her eyes again. What could possibly hurt her? I didn't know who, but this goddy trot would pay for that.

Thirty yards left between us and even now I still feel my heart pounding.

I don't understand how the same thought left me breathless and exhilarated at the same time. I didn't know who she was or why her face brought the ghost of a memory of my fingers running through her soft jet-black hair.

It sucked not being able to make sense of anything.

Even as I told Eden on our ride back to home, he'd say, "Oh yeah? How did she look like?"

And I must've said something stupid or something _really_ stupid because his grin only widened and he asked,

"What did you do? Follow her? Did you at least _talk _to her?"

I shook my head in frustration. Eden shrugged, but his smile said something different. And he'd turn the other way before I had the chance to ask what that meant. And I was left alone with my thoughts again.

I picture her passing figure and the brief but electric moment when our fingers brushed. Her ring felt cool against my burning skin and I recall the lightheaded feeling as I walked away.

She was walking east to west, and I west to east. It was a really nice June afternoon.

I guess I regret not taking her by the wrist and whisking her away to some far away place where we could disappear alone together. But I have this sinking suspicion that she'd be the one twisting my wrist and pinning me to the ground (not that I would've minded).

Or maybe just a simple conversation would do. One question would lead to another and we'd lose track of time thinking of stories to tell each other.

The whole day would've gone by and I wouldn't have cared.

After talking, we'd grab a bite to eat. (Not fried dough; she wouldn't like that) And maybe scale a building or two and watch the lights of the city fade in and out.

I wonder what I would've done to get her attention. Chat her up and steal a kiss or three from her.

"Hello miss, do you think you could spare some time for a conversation? I could buy you a drink if you'd like." Ha! I sound like some con artist. Besides, she didn't look like the fooling around type.

I could make up some sob story, she'd take pity and help me out.

"Would you happen to know where the nearest hospital is? I have to run to get some medicine for my sick brother." That probably sounded more suspicious than the first; she'd see right through me.

Maybe the simple truth would do: "Hello. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."

Nah. Too ridiculous. I wouldn't buy it and she wouldn't either.

I lie on my bed, listening to the silence and thinking about our chance encounter. I hear a laugh penetrate the darkness and I knew there was nothing chance about our meeting in that narrow street.

I'm afraid of dreaming tonight, even though most days it was the only thing I looked forward to. It was always different but always of the same thing. I dreamt of a girl.

It took me a while to realize that girl was you.

It usually went like this:

There was a girl lying on the streets. She was wounded and beaten up pretty bad. But she still managed to look fierce and defiant which filled me with a strange combination of excitement and dread.

I looked to the direction where she was facing and I see an army of soldiers hunting her down. A cloud of dust explodes behind me but I don't look back. And I'm already making my way towards the girl.

I tell her to take my hand and we run.

Other times, it starts with the girl and I on a train going God-knows-where. I rest my back on the metal cargo walls while the girl sleeps soundly, her head buried in my shoulders.

On my bad days, it turns into an all-out shouting match. I never remember what we fought about. And honestly, I'd rather not recall. The dream ends with her running the opposite direction and me helpless, unable to call out to the nameless girl.

I'd wake up shaking, my cheeks wet with something other than sweat.

On my good days, when her infectious smile leaves me smiling along with her, I could almost taste her name on my lips.

I lived in those dreams but who knows. It might as well have been just a made up memory.


	2. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

**Just an alternate ending to my first chapter. Enjoy~**

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

My dreams usually went like this:

My old friend, Tess looked at me pleadingly and I tried shaking the grogginess away.

There was a girl lying on the streets. She was wounded and beaten up pretty bad. But she still managed to look fierce and defiant which filled me with a strange combination of excitement and dread.

I looked to the direction where she was facing and I could see why.

I make out an army of soldiers hunting her down. Their faces were concealed behind metal masks and each of them wore the Republic's insignia on their padded armor.

A cloud of dust explodes behind me but I don't look back to asses the damage. I'm already making my way towards the girl.

I tell her to take my hand and we run. I don't know for how long but as soon as I look back, I notice her dark eyes regarding me with such intensity.

It takes a while before we calm down. I pick a building at random and we settle in, nestled in between rags and empty crates. For the first time, I notice her sides are bleeding.

She doesn't speak as I bandage her. I –on the other hand –keep talking, trying to fill the awkward silence.

My fingers tremble as I wrap the cloth around her waist. I finally finish after what seems like a lifetime and she puts a finger to my mouth before I could ask for her name. She smiles and I felt my heart leap with joy.

The details of her face turn hazy and I close my eyes relishing the moment.

We lean in to kiss each other. But her delicate face shifts into the wrinkly face of our caretaker Lucy.

I jump back with a terrified yelp and I jolt upright.

I try to close my eyes to memorize the girl's blurry outline but I can't seem to make out the shape of her lips or the color of her eyes.

The image of Lucy's face creeps into my mind instead and a shiver runs down my spine.

Oh man… I should stop taking the cigarettes before I go to sleep.


End file.
